


The Winters Weren’t Always This Long

by sweesbees



Series: Scarce Winter Travels [2]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, i guess?????????????????????????, moominmamma is only really mentioned though oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 05:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20270920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweesbees/pseuds/sweesbees
Summary: It has been months since Snufkin returned to a feast made for him. While he travels, he wonders if the Moomins were have been too  hospitable the past few months...





	The Winters Weren’t Always This Long

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in one night oops

Winter had come early, and Snufkin was already several miles out of Moominvalley. He gave Moomin his farewells and turned as if there was nothing holding him back. Moomin ate dinner alone that night, compared to the piles upon piles meals that Snufkin had shared with the Moomins over the past months. It may have been for the best. He didn’t want to admit to himself that by the end of autumn his pants were starting to grow too tight for him.

The first night of his travels felt nostalgic to Snufkin. This was what having a meal truly was, just a warm pot filled with water and whatever he could find cooking inside. In the flickering light of the fire, Snufkin dug through his backpack and noticed something he did not pack. Moominmamma, being the maternal force she was, must have found some way to sneak some vegetables into his backpack. She had packed for him a sack of carrots, onions, peas, beans and more, complete with a note folded neatly. Intrigued, Snufkin pulled the note out and read it in the orange glow.

“Dear Snufkin,

I do hope you wouldn’t mind me slipping a few perishables for you to carry. It will be a long winter after all. It is terrible that this is all I can give you, but it is far too easy for food to spoil. So use these quick and use these well. All I can do is hope that the rest of the winter will provide what nourishment you need.

Travel safely and keep us in your heart,

Moominmamma”

Warmth rose in his heart upon reading the note. Dear Mamma, bless her heart. As Snufkin pulled out a few beans to put into the stew just starting to come together, he noticed a few apples and small fruits at the bottom of the sack for snacks. Now this was just too much. Really, Mamma. Deep down, he loved her for it, but he could only chuckle heartily. “This is almost insulting,” he said to himself. He ate well that night.

* * *

  
It only took a week for Snufkin to consume the contents of the sack, so now it was back to foraging and fishing for his dinner. This was how he preferred it, anyway. No one but himself to rely on, he was a free spirit unbound by societal expectations. He could slurp soup and put his feet up and no one would be there to tell him no. He could get dirty looking for just the right mushroom to add to his soups and no one would complain. This was what he longed for all year, no longer under the watch of the Moomins and their eagerness to entertain with hospitality.

Yet, he felt empty inside.

His stomach growled. That was one way Snufkin was empty, for sure. But there was another emptiness altogether. His rotten luck with foraging over the past few days contrasted against the first meal he had about a month ago, and he felt far less satisfied. When he was with the Moomins, he could have anything he wanted, and if there was a day the fish weren’t biting or the heat was too strong for him to find food, he could still eat. But now, he had no other option. If he couldn’t find food, he didn’t eat.

Snufkin stood on a rock perched over a sprawling lake. For hours, he stood like a statue. His legs started to tire, and the fishing rod shook in his hands until he gripped it tighter. His energy was all coiled up, and like a snake, he was ready to pounce the instant he felt something tug at the string. Even as the sun made its arc overhead, he caught nothing. The few tugs he felt could only be blamed on currents or a few tiny fish unfit to even be morsels.

The trees blanketed Snufkin in a cool shadow as the sun sat behind them, and he was starting to get restless. He had barely moved all day, and had barely eaten over the past week. The grumbles of his stomach were starting to annoy him. “Hush,” he grumbled in return.

The rod frantically shook in his hands, and he steadied his arms. There was something tugging on the rope, and it felt to be something substantial. The line bobbed in and out of the water, being tugged by such force that Snufkin knew this to be true. This was not just your run of the mill fish. This was something that could only be seen once in a blue moon. Not just anyone was skilled enough to catch and land a fish of this size. He only hoped that he was more than just anyone.

Digging his heels into the surface of the rock, Snufkin leaned forward and prepared for the catch of a lifetime. He whipped his rod back with such speed that he barely had enough time to take in the majesty of his catch. A huge tuna breached the surface of the lake, and beads of water glistened in the sunset. He held his hand out, prepared to catch the line in his hand and unhook the fish, and as he did, the weight of the rod shifted, swaying to the right. Snufkin was not prepared for this.

The weight of the tuna pulled the rod far right. In a split second, Snufkin had to recalibrate himself and get the rod back up so he could regain control of the tug of war between him and the tuna. As he took the rod in both of his hands, he felt that the line was no longer being pulled. There was no more weight on the end. The tuna, which he had waited all day to catch, swam away with barely a trace. He could only guess that it had swam far away from here.

Frustrated, Snufkin threw the rod to the ground in a petulant fit. He picked it back up and tried to maintain his composure, but now he was just embarrassed. This was not like him at all. Normally, he would just brush off a bad day, but now it seemed like it was getting too much. As he ruminated over just what caused his outburst, another growl threw his thought off. In shame, he pulled his hat over his eyes and resigned himself to just looking for some moss to keep him from starving.

* * *

  
Spring was now only a few weeks away. This would normally be when Snufkin would enjoy himself as he leisurely strode to Moominvalley, not minding if he took his time to return. He would come and go as he pleased, and nothing would change that. But now, his desire to return to Moominvalley became more urgent. Everytime he thought about everyone in Moominvalley, especially Moominhouse full of lovely friends and warm comforts, he ached tremendously.

Curled up in his tent under a thick blanket, Snufkin shuddered, feeling heavy in his whole body. His arms weighed down, and his legs would throb from carrying him on such little energy. This had barely been a problem before, but now that the Moomins were set on feeding him, his stomach had grown too used to eating like a moomin to survive the way he did out here. Once a meager stew would fill him up for the night, but now it felt like just enough to stop the acid from gnawing at his insides.

The more he thought about it, the more incensed he became. The sack of vegetables and fruits given to him by Moominmamma was almost cruel. She had given him motherly love, but it could not last when he was alone. She gave him a taste of home, and now he only had that to compare his findings to. Nothing would ever satiate him like a fresh fruit picked from the trees of Moominvalley, and he knew it.

Not only that, it was a sick reminder of how alone he was out here. For the first two months, it was fine, but towards the end of winter, he just wanted to be with everyone in Moominvalley again. Especially Moomin, the beautiful troll. He would have given anything just to play a tune for him now, but the spring tune he would normally work to compose was only half formed this year. It was not coming to him easy, and any time he thought of something to add, it came with the memories of Moomin and just how kind he was to take him in and look after him.

Snufkin huffed heavily as he tossed under the blanket. His heart felt dull now, as if it was being rubbed against cold rocks. He didn’t want to think about Moomin or his family, but it was all he could do to stop his mind from focusing on his hunger. If he thought too much about what he could be missing and what he was left with, he would most certainly be trapped by his reluctance to go on travels that would not guarantee him what he wanted.

He didn’t want to grow too used to their beautiful food. All the slices of salmon melting in his mouth, freshly baked cakes and pies dancing with lingonberries, and all those pancakes stacked to the heavens with mouthwatering jam to the side……

It frustrated him that Moomin fussing over him lead to this debacle, because he was sure that if Moomin could see what he did to him, he would regret it! Snufkin kicked his legs in the air, feeling frustrated all over again. He was becoming weak. He was becoming weak from their love.

Snufkin felt like an absolute fool. His need for solitude was now bumping up against his need to survive and his growing appetite. It broke his heart, but he knew that if he kept living the way he did, he could never get what he truly needed and had fulfilled since as long as he could remember. Trying to change his nature never worked in the long term, so the best he could do was to wean himself off his expectations that living off the land would ever be like living in Moominvalley. He would have to curb his cravings and live the way he always did. He would have to live like a Snufkin.

* * *

It was well into the day by the time Snufkin returned to Moominvalley, his tune following behind him. He managed to put what he had together, and it sounded rough and unfinished. Maybe only Snufkin thought it to be so, for as he caught Moomin’s stare, he saw his blue eyes shine with joy. This boy stared at him with the intensity of a whole season’s worth of longing, and just hearing his tune was enough, no matter how it sounded.

The two of them met on the bridge, and Snufkin latched onto Moomin with a ravenous desire to have him back. He could feel Moomin’s heart beating away just under his warm fluffy chest, and it calmed him down. It kept him solid and grounded, and it was a good thing too as he thought he could feel tears cascade down his own cheeks. Two strong white arms held him close, stroking down his back.

When Moomin pulled away, Snufkin noticed that all too familiar face. Moomin was worried once more, and that made Snufkin feel uncertain. On a physical level, he only hoped to have a seat at the table to witness Moominmamma’s cooking and eat only that for the next several months, but what happened last winter was too much. He had to be honest with Moomin.

“I think it’d be better to pace myself this time.” Moomin frowned and looked at Snufkin with confusion. Nevertheless, Snufkin continued. “I’m not going to find Moominmamma’s cooking out where I’ve been and where I will be. And yet that was all I wanted after I finished up the sack that she so sneakily placed in my pack.”

Moomin gasped at this, completely unaware that she even did such a thing. In the back of his mind, he wished that he had thought of it first.

“It’s very kind of you, but you may just have to accept that sometimes it will be hard to find food, and I will be okay. As long as I don’t keep thinking of something better,” Snufkin added. Just as he said that, his stomach grumbled, quickly speaking to Moomin to tell him what Snufkin was refusing to say.

Moomin took Snufkin’s hand and tugged at him, leading him from the bridge towards the direction of the house. “Fine, you don’t have to come every day and we won’t sneak you food if you don’t want, but that won’t stop us from being concerned when you return from who knows where and you aren’t even eating right.”

Snufkin sighed heavily, grudgingly accepting defeat in the meantime. “You Moomins are really set on fattening me up then,” he said.

“Just enough for you to not be as lean as a rail upon your return!” Moomin replied.

That was all Snufkin needed. The Moomins were hospitable for sure, but there was a reason he tried not to rely on them. In the worst times, all he had was his composure and steady temperament. If he was going to spend every waking moment focused on something that was missing for him that waited in Moominvalley, it would only hinder his travels and rush his return. His nature was important to him, and just like the sun moving overhead with no stopping, he too would not stop. As grateful as he was, he wanted to have as little strife as possible. Now he was sure he could have that, and just a few meals on the side, courtesy of Moominmamma.


End file.
